The Extraordinary Mishaps of a Small Town Girl
by Julesthejellyfish
Summary: In the small town of Riverwood, Skintell Jorlbent's infant child is sick. What lengths will she go to save her child? What will she have to sacrifice? Please R & R!
1. Chapter 1

Burned

**WOOT WOOT! Hi there guys! My names Julesthejellyfish, but call me Jelly. This is my second FanFic and I'm not that experienced, so please don't trash it! Please R&R, I'd really appreciate it!**

**With love,**

**Jelly :D**

"Can I talk to you for a second?" my husband, Flinn asked as he walked into my workshop. A cold winter's wind from outside whooshed in. The fire grew, threatening to set my long black hair ablaze.

"Sure." I put down the axe I was sharpening and stood up. "How's Herbar holding up? Is he still coughing up phlegm?" He was our 5-year-old son.

"Yes. He's still coughing a lot. I talked to the doctor and he said that a lot of fluid has built up in his lungs and that the best option would be to drain his lungs." I winced. I couldn't imagine how in Tamriel they could do that.

"Couldn't we take him to Whiterun and get a more educated opinion? Maybe take him to the temple?" I walked over to Flinn as he embraced me. Our marriage had been eroding slowly, after Herbar contracted his disease. An embrace was a rare occurrence. Our honeymoon excitement was long gone.

"Come on, Skelli," he said, tiredly. Skelli's my nickname. My real name's Skintell. "You know that Riverwood doesn't have enough money to maintain a stable. And it's too long of a walk for you and Herbar in this harsh weather."

"But I can't let that crazy man we call a doctor touch my Herbar!" I could just imagine the tubes. The needles. The magic. The knives. I shivered.

"Baby, it's our only option." Flinn held me tighter. I pulled away.

"I've told you not to call me baby. It makes me feel like a damsel in distress or something." As I turned around to put out the fire, Flinn grabbed my wrist and leaned in close to me. "You don't make the rules around here. Baby," he whispered, smirking. I smelled mead, lingering on his breath. He had been drinking. A lot. He moved his hand from my wrist to my waist then his right hand on the back of my neck and pulled me close. This had unfortunately happened before. I wasn't about to let it happen again.

"Stop. I don't want to. Not tonight." I tried to pry his hands off but they wouldn't move. He moved a hand from my waist to my breast. He smiled and said nastily, "Don't tell me what to do, baby."

"I said, stop it!" I shouted at him. In one fluid motion, I grabbed the freshly-sharpened axe from behind me and swung it at Flinn's knee. It hit with a blood-curdling snap. He fell from where he was into the fire, which was now just white-hot coals, screaming.

"Skintell! You bitch! Help me!" He tried getting up but his leg prevented him. I thought about briefly helping him out, but then I remembered Heia. And Gertrude. And all the other women he cheated on me with. I remembered how he hit Herbar once with the handle of his dagger. He had hit me too. I remembered how he was unemployed and how my blacksmithing job was our only source of income.

I let him burn.

**Skintell's quite the bad-ass if I may say so myself! Woah! I'll try to upload chapters as frequent as possible~till then, adios, bitachos!**


	2. Chapter 2

Whiterun Run

I walked around the forgery, putting the torches in a bucket of water. Flinn had stopped screaming and I presumed he was dead. I left him there so his body would burn. I tried not to think about that fact that I had just killed somebody and climbed up the ladder by the storage room to our loft-home above. This would all look like an accident.

"Mummy…" Herbar mumbled from his hide sleeping bag. He coughed up a ball of brown-tinged phlegm into the bucket beside him. "It hurts." I kneeled down beside him and whispered, "We're going to make you better tomorrow alright? The mail comes tomorrow."

"The mail person will help me?" he asked, in between coughs.

"No honey-bear," I giggled at his naivety. "His horse will. We're going to go to Whiterun tomorrow with the mail person's horse. The priests will make you better." I hugged him and curled up next to him. He didn't ask how we were going to get the horse.

While rubbing his back I noticed a large purple bruise.

"Honey-bear? How did you get your bruise?" Herbar flipped over so he was facing me.

"Papa gave me a booboo… I don't like Papa, Mummy," he said. I smiled.

"Me neither. Don't worry Herbar. Papa won't hurt you anymore."

We both slept very deeply.

"Skintell Jorlbent? I have a parcel for your husband," said the mail courier who was at the forgery door. Even in the early hours of light, I could see he was a short stout man, bundled in furs from every animal.

"Oh it's okay. I can hand it to him," I lied, smiling my large, fake grin. He handed me the parcel.

"May the Gods be with you." He mounted his horse and walked up the north road; in the direction of Whiterun.

The weather was light, barely snowing. It was the perfect travel weather. I raced back inside and grabbed my bow and iron arrows. Herbar sat on his fox-fur blanket, coughing into his bucket.

"Herbar, if anybody comes, tell them Mummy's out hunting okay? I'll be back soon." He nodded. I kissed his forehead and ran over to the door, dropping the parcel on an anvil.

"I love you Herbar."

"I love you Mummy."

I sprinted out into the dawn, the cold gnawing at my muscular yet slender frame. It wasn't very long until the mail courier came into my line of sight. I ran up until I was almost right behind them, and then turned behind a pine tree. I raised and aimed my bow at the mail courier's head. My conscience suddenly started up_. _

_Don't kill this man. What did he ever do to you?_

I began to form second thoughts on this. But then I remembered Herbar. Poor, sick Herbar. I was not going to let him die.

_What if people found out about this, Skintell? You've already killed Flinn, and two deaths are worse than one…_

I ignored the nudging thoughts and released the arrow. The mail courier fell off the horse and to the ground. The arrow itself probably didn't kill him, but the fall off of his large horse snapped his spine. I jogged over to the dead body and pushed it off the path into a little crack in the mountain, trying not to look at his face. I was about to bury it in snow but then decided to take his furs and satchel. Being a blacksmith didn't pay very well. I covered the body and ran back to the idle horse, tied it to a tree and headed back for Riverwood.

Just as I entered the frail wooden walls of Riverwood, I heard a voice call out.

"Hey Skintell! Where'd Flinn run off too? We were supposed to kill shit today!" It was Flinn's friend, Sven.

"I thought he was with you," I lied, putting on my best confused expression. I tried to look as nonchalant as I could with all of my stolen goods. "He didn't come home last night and I thought he was still out with you and Morret. But he's probably out with a different friend." I smiled, falsely. I'd never liked any of Flinn's friends. Sven wandered away.

I continued walking to the forgery, snow from the forest melting in my boots. I entered and closed the door behind me.

"Where did you go Mummy?" Herbar asked in his raspy voice. I noticed his eyes had reddened drastically.

"I got us some new clothes honey-bear!" Herbar smiled and jumped up excitedly, ignoring his eyes. I put a rabbit fur hat on his abnormally large head and a bear cloak on my back. They were both the courier's.

"Where are we going Mummy?" Herbar questioned while putting on too-large boots.

"To make you better Herbar." I emptied the courier's satchel of the mail and filled it with food, gold coin, a lamp and my precious amulet of Kynareth. I took my one-handed Nord sword and my bow and arrows too.

After bundling ourselves warmly, I picked up Herbar and my satchel and left the forgery. The bear cloak enveloped us both. We walked over to the inn across the village to tell my friend, Nassa, about where we were going.

When we entered, the inn was empty. Not a soul was in the room except for Nassa who sat by the fire with a book in hand. Herbar spat up another ball of phlegm into the fire and made a raspy, malicious, gurgling noise.

"Hey there Skelli. What's with the wardrobe?" Nassa said, eyeing our hides and furs.

"We're off to Whiterun to heal Herbar. I found a horse in the woods, so we're going to ride that there." Half of that was a lie. I would have to tell the truth to Nassa later on.

"Oh, alright then. Want some milk for the road?" Nassa put down her book and walked over to the bar.

"Please," said Herbar. Nassa revealed a glass bottle of milk and handed it to me. I placed it in my satchel and said thanks. She winked.

"Stay safe!" Nassa called as we exited, heading northward. After a few minutes of walking, I spotted the horse and bee lined it. Herbar sat at the front of the saddle. I untied the horse and jumped up behind my son. He leaned backwards and held onto the edge of the saddle, coughing. I forgot to bring his bucket.

"Heeyah!" I shouted as I squeezed my heels together. The horse lurched forward into a gallop, my cape fluttering behind us in the morning air.


End file.
